


TMNT 2007 - More Of Us

by DJ_Wubs



Category: TMNT (2007)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23886889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJ_Wubs/pseuds/DJ_Wubs
Summary: During a night out beating up thugs, Raphael never thought he'd find someone like him.
Relationships: Raphael (TMNT)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

The rain poured down on the streets of New York City, producing puddles on the roads and sidewalks. Not a lot of people dared to venture out due to the disdain of getting wet, providing the more unusual people a chance to wander about the night. Among them was a tall being, hiding from the storm under a trench coat with a saddlebag slung over her shoulder. Her reptilian feet splashed as she took every step, wetting up to her ankles. She grunted to herself as she turned into an alleyway, checking to make sure no one was following her. 

She pulled her hood off, revealing her turtle head. Her green eyes blinked open, almost glittering in the light of the stars. Quickly, she stepped under a balcony, out of the way of the rain. The turtle wasn’t there a minute before she heard a ‘click’ to her side. 

A gun was not-so subtly shoved in her face, practically pushing against her cheek. Behind the gun, a man in a mask narrowed his eyes. 

“What’s in the bag, freak?” 

Lifting a faux-brow, the turtle replied smoothly, Southern accent clearer than the dark sky above. “A party yer not invited to. What’s in the gun, blanks?” 

The gunman dryly laughed. “Don’t get smart with me.” 

“Kinda hard, considerin’ ah’m a lot smarter n’ you are.” 

Even more laughter. “Y’know, that mouth a’ yours is gonna get ya in trouble.” 

On cue, around 5 other masked men stepped out of the street. Only 2 of them had guns. 

The turtle sighed in annoyance, as if this were an everyday occurrence. She slipped her back off from her shoulder, rolled the strap around her hand, and took a fight stance, green eyes staring down each thug. 

A thud echoed throughout the alley as something dropped between the girl and the thieves. It stood up, revealing it to be a…giant metal turtle? 

“What the hell are you?” 

The metal turtle crossed their arms. “The one who’s gonna kick ya’ ass, bud,” they spoke with a distinct Bronx accent. 

The gunman was absolutely confuzzled until a fist clocked him in the face. 

A fight broke out, and the female turtle took the chance to whack the first attacker with her saddlebag. He fell to the ground and she laughed, stepping past him to jump into the action. 

It wasn’t even 5 minutes before the two had the team of thugs all flopped upon one another. The metal one turned to the girl. 

“Gotta say, you gotsa lotta fight in ya, girly.” 

She waved a hand, pulling her bag back to her shoulder. “Eh, ah’ have ma’ fair share a’ experience. Can’t lead a rebellion without fightin’.” 

She laughed, but it subsided when she caught the other’s silence. 

“…rebellion?” 

“Uh, yeah, it’s – it’s a long story. Really long.” 

The metal turtle seemed to ponder to themselves for a moment. They looked up to the sky before turning back to their companion. “You got a marka’ in that bag? Or a pen?” 

“Oh!” She rummaged through her bag before handing them a red sharpie. “Here y’all go.” 

They knelt to the first thug’s head and scribbled something down. Then they pulled a chain from their belt and bound the group together. 

“Chains? Boy…you kinky.” The girl burst into a giggling fit as the new one stared at her. Eventually, they snorted. 

“Yeah, ok, lil’ miss ‘fight wit’ a bag.’” 

“’Ey, it was th’ only thang ah’ had on me, gimme a break!” 

The metal turtle snorted again and handed her the marker back. She took notice of the fact that they had a three-fingered glove. 

“…what?” 

She jumped but shook her head and stuffed her marker back in her bag. “Nothin’, nothin’. Anyway!!! Ah’m Cleo! What’s yer name?” 

They paused, looking around. No one else was around, just the turtles and the thugs. Still… 

“How good are ya at climbing, Cleo?” 

“Climbin’? Eh, ah’d say ah’m a decent shot at it.” She shrugged with a cocky smirk. “Only been doin’ parkour fer a few lil’ years.” 

The metal turtle notioned to one of the buildings next to them. “Meet me up there. Don’t want these bozos hearin’ it.” 

Cleo looked up at the roof, calculating. “Okie doke, suit.” 

With that, they both jumped on a dumpster, and hoisted themselves up onto the roof. The suited one turned to the girl. 

“…we took the same way.” 

Cleo got her footing, then paused. “Huh. Weird.” 

She shrugged and the two sat on the edge of the roof, looking down at the ground. 

Sirens rang out through the air as police cars made their way to the scene. Someone probably called after they heard the gunshot earlier. 

“So, what’s ya’ story, cowgirl?” 

Cleo turned her head to them, lifting a faux-brow. “Oh, yeah, ah’ reckon ah’ shoul’…’splain.” 

She cleared her throat before stretching, then pausing to calculate her words. How to make what happened sound…believable? Then again, she was talking to a giant metal turtle, so maybe it wouldn’t be that hard. 

“Well…ah’ wasn’t always a turtle. Ah’ used t’ be human. Ah’ was headin’ home from work when, t’ put it bluntly, ah’ was kidnapped. Y’know, white van an’ all that. 

They took me t’ some lab, strapped me t’ a table, an’…” She looked off, wrapping her arms around herself, fingers gripping onto her sides. 

“Cut me open. With a buzzsaw. Then they dumped some kinda glowin’ goop inside a’ me n’ sewed me back up. Ah’ turned int’…this.” She uncrossed her arms and signaled to the rest of her body. 

“Those bastards threw me int’ a cell. It was musty, gross…nothin’ but, like, three steps worth a’ room an’ a bucket in th’ corner fer…things.” 

The stranger cringed visibly. “Eugh. You eva’ find out who did it?” 

Cleo’s eyes moved to them. “You ain’ gonna believe it, but some…small, pink aliens that looked like brai-“ 

“Kraang?!” They shot up, much to Cleo’s surprise. She followed their lead, hopping up to her feet. 

“How’d you know?” 

“My brotha’s, we…we went up against ‘em before. You’re tellin’ me you were mutated by ‘em?” 

“That’s what ah’m tellin’ ya.” 

They both simultaneously sat back down after she put a hand on their shoulder. Cleo tucked her hands back into her lap. 

“Ah’ ain’t th’ only one, though. There were dozens a’ us – a mutated ‘gator, a couple a’ tigers, hell, we even had some bears. But none a’ us knew how t’ stop it. Every single day, th’ Kraang came in an’ out, takin’ us an’…” 

She looked up at the sky. The rain had started to subside, so she shuffled to take off the trench coat after taking off her bag and setting it behind her. Her new friend sucked in a breath when they saw the multitude of scars littering her body. There were dots, long gashes, even what looked like a burn on the underside of her arm. 

“They tortured us. They called it ‘experimenting,’ but…it was torture, no matter which way you look at it. They beat us, burned us, stuck all sorts a’ needles in us. Every fuckin’ day, every fuckin’ night, every hour.” 

She wrapped her coat around her shoulders, tying the sleeves before pushing on. 

“’Round a year after ah’ was brought in, they had some sorta emergency – ah’ think it was an intruder or somethin’? Don’ matter. What matters is that one a’ th’ idiots left one a’ our cells open.” She laughed dryly. 

“Oh-ho, that was th’ biggest mistake they ever made…well, ‘sides fuckin’ with Cleo Patra,” she winked, “anywho, she got out an’ stopped th’ last one a’ those slimy freaks on his way out. She used his eye t’ scan th’ lock an’ let us all in th’ hall out, one by one. Wasn’t but an hour later when we were free. Ah’ reckon there were cameras ‘round, ‘cause one a’ them came back in. He was ‘bout t’ call fer backup when one a’ us jumped ‘em. Rog, bless ‘er heart, took ‘em down an’ snagged his key – an’ his gun. 

We all collectively decided t’ rebel. T’ rise up ‘gainst those slick, brainy sons a’ bitches once in fer all an’ show ‘em that Earth ain’ nothin’ t’ be trifled with!” She rose a fist in the air with a bold, determined look. 

“When ah’ took charge an’ led us all, no one said a word ‘gainst it. Ah’ led us down hall after hall, using our lil’ brain t’ free anyone we came ‘cross ‘long th’ way. No one was left behind, no one abandoned. 

T’ make a long story short, we freed ev’ryone an’ fought. Fer a long time, we stole their technology an’ destroyed them. Once in fer all. 

We lost some a’ us along th’ way, but…we made it.” She laughed again, but this time, it was more of a genuinely happy sound. 

The other turtle couldn’t help the soft little smile that overtook their lips. “So…you’re th’ one who took down th’ Kraang?” 

“Hell yeah, son. Though…ah’ couldn’ a’ done it without ma’ friends’ help. ‘Specially Leatherhead an’ Tiger Claw. They were ma’ closest friends. Ah’ coul’ count on them fer anythin’…ah’ still can. Even if it’s been almost a year, we still know each other. We all still chat.” 

The sun started to rise past the dark clouds, casting a light on the two turtles. Cleo stood up, grabbing her bag before looking off in the distance. 

“What’s yer story, suit?” 

The aforementioned one followed her lead, standing up and following her glance. “Well, people around these parts call me Nightwatcha’, though…” 

They pondered for a second, before deciding, “…my real name’s Raphael, like th’ artist? Yeah. I’ve got three brotha’s, but one’s…out a’ country right now.” 

The two had started walking a bit, Cleo looking up at Nightwatcher due to him being ever-so-slightly taller. She cocked her head a bit. “So, like, fer college?” 

“Nah, we neva’ went t’ real school like that. We…ain’ human.” 

The female blinked a couple of times. “…ah’ knew it.” 

“…what?” 

“Ah’ knew it! Ain’ no way! That explains so much!!” 

Raphael blinked the same way she had. “Oh. That, uh, yeah.” 

He paused for a moment, before reaching up and taking off his helmet. Cleo’s green hues followed, but then remained entirely focused on his face. 

This confirmed her suspicions – he was indeed a turtle. He was slightly shorter without the helmet. Hazel eyes lied behind a dark red mask that slid to his back. 

“Holy shit…another turtle. That’s…not what ah’ expected t’ see t’night.” 

He laughed. “I coul’ say th’ same.” 

This time, they both laughed. Raphael looked around before turning back to her. “So, where ya live, Cleo?” 

“’Bout halfway ‘cross th’ city. Ah’ don’ really needa’ be back home anytime soon, though. Why?” 

“Well…” This was a bad idea, but…there’s no way she was lying – he knew a liar when he saw one, and the amount of bold determination in her eyes when she told her story was proof. “…I was wonderin’ if you’d wanna meet my brotha’s? And maybe my dad – I have a feelin’ they’d like t’ meet anotha’ mutant that ain’t tryna kill us.” 

Her brow curved in worry. “…absolutely. S-sorry ‘bout ev’ryone tryna kill ya. Ah’…know how that feels.” 

“Heh heh…yeah.”


	2. Chapter 2

Cleo looked around the sewer pipe, following Raphael’s lead. He couldn’t help but find himself a bit surprised – when Casey and April were down here for the first time, they were grossed out. But Cleo was more…observant.  
Well, if what she described earlier was any indication, she’d lived through worse.  
Now that he wasn’t in his suit, he was only as tall as her shoulder, which made him a bit flustered, but at the same time, it wasn’t her fault. He decided to just leave it there, in his thoughts.  
Eventually, he stopped. “Here,” he told her. His sudden voice made her stop, but she stepped to his side and watched curiously as he grabbed a pipe. In a row of four, he grabbed the third one from the left and pulled it down like a lever. Two brick walls opened, revealing a living room of sorts.  
Cleo gasped and ran in. “Woah! Y’all got some sorta underground lair in here! Rad!!”  
She dashed to one of the arcade machines, laughing like a child. Raphael chuckled, rolling his eyes slightly. He followed her, watching as she messed with the joystick. “How’d y’all get this down here? Any of it?”  
“With a lotta pain an’ sufferin’.”  
They shared a look then both started laughing in their own way.  
Raphael sighed and glanced around the lair while Cleo was focused on the game. “…I don’ think anyone else’s awake yet.”  
He paused, but turned to Cleo again. “Rememba’ what I told ya earlia’? That they don’ know I’m Nightwatcha’?” His tone was but a whisper.  
Cleo nodded. “You wanna keep it that way?” She whispered back.  
“Yeah. Thanks.”  
She nodded again as he straightened up. “You can go chill on th’ couch if you want. We got tv, but no cable. I’m gonna go lay down for a bit…least, ‘til everyone wakes up.”  
Cleo peeked over the game machine, and over at the couch. “Ok. Ah’ll call fer you if ah’ need it.”  
With that, he went off to his room and she went to the couch. After setting her bag on the ground and curling up in a ball on the most-right cushion, she eventually dozed off.  
Footsteps sounded, and Cleo’s head shot up, adrenaline shooting through her system. It calmed relatively, however, when she saw two turtles, slightly shorter than her friend, walking down the stairs. One had an orange mask on, the other had a purple mask.  
She blinked, and as soon as they looked over at her, everyone froze in their spots. The orange-banded turtle blinked once, Cleo blinked twice. The purple-banded turtle blinked three times.  
When the two turtles yelled and dashed over, pulling out weapons, Cleo made a noise of surprise and tucked into her shell. She poked her head out of her shell, but squeaked when she saw a bo staff pointed at her face.  
“Ehh…Raaaaphaelllll!!” She cried.  
The two masked turtles shared a glance as their brother came dashing down the stairs, almost toppling over at the bottom. “Mikey, Don, she’s with me!”  
Mikey and Don shared another glance, but the purple one spun his staff around and tucked it back into its hold. The orange one followed his lead and tucked his nunchucks away.  
Raphael sighed in relief and looked back over at Cleo, who was slowly coming out of her shell – quite literally. She popped her arms out before crawling to the side of the couch, resting her hands on one of his shoulders and peeking over. “Guh…howdy?”  
“Raphael.” Came a new voice from the shadows. Out stepped a giant rat wearing a red robe. He stopped and stared at the newcomer. She lifted a hand and shyly waved at him.  
“Howdy-do.”  
The rat’s eyes shot to Raphael. “You brought a stranger into our home?!”  
“She’s fine, Sensei, I promise – she’s on our side.”  
“How can you be so sure?”  
Cleo’s gaze darted from Raphael to Sensei, back to Raphael, back to Sensei.  
“’Cause – she stopped th’ Kraang.”  
All eyes in the room fell on her, and in turn, she nodded. “Yep, ah’ did.”  
“Can you prove it?”  
“…ah’m a giant talkin’ mutant turtle covered in scars from it. Not…not too sure how else t’, y’know, prove. ‘Less y’all want me t’ tell ya th’ whole story.”  
Mikey, Donnie, and Sensei all leaned forward in interest. Cleo blinked at Raphael, who gave her a nod and sat on the arm of the couch. She shuffled back and cleared her throat.  
“Daaang! You led a whole rebellion?!” The orange-masked turtle wiggled excitedly in his spot on the floor.  
“Yup! Funny ‘nuff, ah’ was one a’ the only gals. An’ th’ third-youngest. Funny how it all works, ah’ reckon.” She passively shrugged, knees pulled up to her chest. Raphael sat next to her, legs crossed, one bouncing.  
“So, the Kraang are all dead?” The purple one asked. “They’ll never bother us again?”  
“Ah’ sure hope so. We made sure every one we killed was, y’know, dead.”  
Raphael’s brothers looked at each other before laughing, beaming and high-fiving…well…high-three-ing.  
“Yeah, dude!!”  
“We never have to deal with those bozos again!!”  
Cleo couldn’t help the gentle laugh of her own. “Golly, ah’ didn’ think ah’d meet anyone else who hated them as much as we did.”  
Raphael shrugged, ceasing the bounce of his leg. Beside him, the rat watched the two curiously.  
“May we ask your name?”  
“Oh!! Ah’ totally forgot.” She laughed again. “Name’s Cleo Patra Rui! Though, y’all can jus’ call me Cleo. Ev’ryone does.”  
“I’m Michelangelo! Everyone just calls me Mikey.” The one in orange pointed to his purple-wearing brother. “That’s Donatello, or Donnie. You already know Raph.”  
Raph pointed to the rat with his thumb. “An’ this is our dad, Splinta’. We all call him Sensei, though, since he teaches us how t’ fight.”  
“That explains the masks!” Cleo’s gaze moved to his red mask. “Ah’ thought it was some bad attempt t’ conceal yer identities or somethin’. But yer ninjas, ain’t’cha?”  
“Yeppers!!” Mikey beamed. “The best ninjas you’ll ever meet, sis!”  
Donnie rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure we’re the only ninjas she’ll ever meet.”  
“You neva’ know,” chimed Raph. “If she managed t’ find me, she coul’ find anyone.”  
Cleo chuckled until Splinter placed a hand on Raph’s shoulder and pushed his back to the couch so he could better see her. “How did you meet my son?”  
A brief look of panic flashed on Raph’s face for a split second, but Cleo’s wave of hand centered him. “Eh. We bumped on a roof top. Ah’ve been inta’ parkour fer a few years. That’s all.” She shrugged. “We started chattin’ fer…obvious reasons.”  
“Huh,” Donnie mumbled. “Strange how two of the only mutated turtles in New York found each other on a roof…”  
“Oh, we ain’ th’ only ones.” Cleo shrugged. “There were a couple from th’ rebellion – ah’ dunno where they are, though. Slash, Spike, Tokka, Jon…an’ me! Ah’m sure there were a couple more ah’m forgettin’, but that’s jus’ off th’ top a’ ma’ head.”  
Raph’s brow rose. “Oh?”  
Cleo nodded. “Yeppers. They were big helps, ‘specially fer me. They helped me figure out ma’ body. Like how ah’ can do this!” Then, she tucked her limbs and head fully into her shell. It plopped onto the couch, earning laughs from the other mutants.  
The female popped back out with her own laugh. “Thank ya, thank ya, ah’ll be here ‘til Friday!”  
Mikey, in between giggles, managed to let out a “you should stay forever!!”  
Cleo, Raph, and Splinter all froze, sharing confused glances.  
“F-for…”  
“…ever?”  
Cleo and Raph both just stared at each other. Mikey, meanwhile, wiped his eye. “Yeah!! You’re funny, Cleo. I like you!!”  
Donnie eased himself back down to reality. “Mikey, I don’t really think-”  
“Aw, c’mon, Donnie! Cleo!! How old are ya?”  
“Uh – 20, now…if ma’ math is right. Ah’ was with the Kraang fer a while…”  
“Where d’ya live normally?”  
“Wit’ ma’ momma an’ lil’ brother. Well, kinda. Ah’m never home, really. Ma’ sorta-kinda-adopted sister’s in ma’ room. She moved in when durin’ th’ rebellion. Why d-“  
“You gotta job?”  
“Not a solid one.” She paused again. “It’s hard fer, uh, someone wit’ a…condition like mine t’ get a full-time job – an’ ah’ don’ jus’ mean th’ mutation.”  
She laughed aloud, but it slowly turned into more of an awkward chuckle. Mikey and Donnie shared a glint.  
“I mean,” Donnie muttered, “it’s more than Raph.”  
“HEY!”  
Cleo blinked over at him then laughed again. “Pfft, you ain’t gotta job, looooserr!!”  
Raph nudged her in the side, making her just laugh harder. After a moment of glaring, he surrendered and started to laugh himself.  
Donnie and Mikey shared yet another perplexed look. “Raph can laugh?!”  
Cleo lifted a faux-brow in their direction, sparing them a peek. “’Course he can! Anyone can!”  
“Not Raph.”  
Donnie shook his head before standing up, Mikey following his lead. “Well, it was fantastic meeting you, Cleo. We gotta head to work now.”  
Mikey pouted, but Donnie elbowed him in the side before tugging him away from the couch, but not before getting a last word in; “don’t leave ‘til we get home!! I wanna talk mor-“  
Donnie pulled him off.  
Raph shook his head, kicking his feet up on the table in front of them. “Dorks. Seriously, it’s a wonda’ I didn’t smack ‘em both upside th’ head t’day.”  
Cleo giggled to herself. “Yeah – ah’ have a lil’ brother ma’self, ah’ know how it can be. They ain’ done nobody no harm, though.”  
Splinter reached over for the remote, but couldn’t reach. Cleo noticed his frustration, so she used her foot to grab the remote and drop it in her hand. Then she handed it to him. “There ya go, sir.”  
He blinked, somewhat impressed. “…thank you,” he mumbled, flipping through the tv channels.  
A snore brought their attention to Raph, who was out like a light. Cleo froze before snickering a bit. “Oh. Reckon he’s tired after all that parkour we was doin’. Y’all think he’d freak out if ah’ brought him t’ his room?”  
Splinter shook his head. “It’s upstairs – the second room on the left.”  
“Coolio.”  
She stood up, stretched a bit, then scooped the smaller turtle up. His head quickly moved to the crook of her neck, making both Splinter and Cleo chuckle to themselves.


	3. Chapter 3

It took a little bit of fumbling on her part, but Cleo managed to carry her new friend to his bedroom. His door, painted red, had a big yellow “HAZARD: TOXIC WASTE” sticker in the middle. Underneath, a black painting of two sai silhouettes crossing over in a X. Cleo couldn’t help but roll her eyes slightly at how typical it seemed.

Messing a bit with the handle opened the door, and she entered, making sure to pull Raph’s head closer to her body so it wouldn’t hit the doorframe. Looking around his room, it honestly matched well with the way his door was decorated. Various band posters were scattered across the walls, mostly rock. What surprised her was that she recognized all of them.

Man, she really was a metalhead.

The turtle snapped back to reality, shaking her head and laying him down on his bed, pulling his red blanket up to his neck, then giving him a little pat on the head. He leaned into her touch, much like a cat. She couldn’t help but giggle, scratching his cheek gently. A rumble came deep from his chest.

She pulled her hand back before turning and going to leave the room. But she stopped when she felt resistance on one of her arms. A look behind her would reveal a still sleeping Raph, holding on to her hand. Slowly, a smirk came to her expression, and she gently removed his fingers, one by one. “Ah’ll be right back,” she whispered, earning a somnolent nod.

The female returned not too long after leaving, her bag in hand. She set it on the floor next to the chair beside Raph’s bed. She plopped into the chair, sighing and crossing her legs. Raph brought a hand to her knee, mumbling something about a dinosaur. The girl sniggered softly, grasping both sides of his hand.

Was this weird? She’d just met him, and yet…

No, no, it’s not like she was kissing him or anything. Just holding onto his hand because…

Wait, why was she holding his hand? She paused, beginning to ponder just what she was doing here. She’d met Raphael on the street, after getting mugged and saved, and now she was sitting in his room, holding his hand while he slept just because his brother said not to leave yet.

No. That’s not why she was staying. She was staying because it just…felt right? That couldn’t have been it. And yet, it was. For some weird-ass reason, she was sticking around in the sewers, with some mutant turtle who was a secret vigilante, a secret he kept even from his family. Some mutant turtle vigilante who saved her life and shared an arch-nemesis nonetheless. In full honesty, it felt like…fate? Nah, fate didn’t exist. Destiny, perhaps?

But why her and him specifically? Why would they be destined to meet? Things happen for a reason, whether it be purposeful or not. So why did they meet? Why did he save her, when there were 7.909 million other people he could’ve been saving? There had to be something more here, and yet, she very rarely believed in these things before, why would she now?

God, so many questions, so few answers.

A shuffle brought her away from her thoughts, and back to Raphael, who was slowly starting to stir once more. He sat up, pulling his hand back to rub his eyes. Cleo pretended she wasn’t doing anything, looking away from him and at his posters.

“Were you…holdin’ my hand?”

She flushed. “…i-in ma’ defense, you p-put it on ma’ lap!!”

It was awkward when he burst out laughing. “So ya grabbed it?”

“…so you wouldn’ fall! Jackass.”

Another laughing fit. “With both hands?”

“F-fuck you.”

He lost it laughing, trying to hide his face with his hand. “From what I see, ya wanna...!” He mustered between giggles. 

Cleo’s cheeks turned a dark crimson as she looked away. “Go t’ hell, fart-knocker.”

His wheeze-like laughter made her grumpier. She crossed her arms and pouted. Raph sighed, patting her knee. “I’m jus’ playin’, C. You’re cute when you’re flusta’ed, though.”

She turned and stuck her tongue out at him. “Yer still a fuck-knuckle.”

“Fuck-knuckle.”

“Why you sayin’ yer own name?” This time, it was her turn to smirk. Raph, somewhat impressed, returned the smirk with a roll of his eyes.


End file.
